#fears to fathom lockscreen

[prplocks]

†☠ wallpaper 〴 fears to fathom ☠†

𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖊𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖔𝖓

reblog if you save

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[babylon-cal]

Don’t Like Me? - Calum

Pairing : Calum x Reader

Genre : Angst & Fluff

Requested : by anon : Can I request something? I want a fic where the reader is dating Calum & the rest of the boys don't like them because they don't like the LA party lifestyle. Angst with fluff in the end (Calum reassuring the reader that it's ok to not like the LA party lifestyle because he doesn't like it either)? Make sure you write it with gender neutral reader in mind

Word Count : 1.7k

I haven’t written for the 5sos boys since 2018, so i hope this is better than what I used to write, idk honestly gjdshk i hope you enjoy it!! Tried not to make it too unrealistically dramatic because I know that in all facts, the boys would not straight up not like someone for not partying so I had to make the reasoning about more thought out. 

Unrelated, but I have some 2012 wattpad fic type requests in my inbox that are just giving me flashbacks that I’m not entirely looking forward to write but you know what we gotta pull through fam so

The air was cool outside the club and the cars that drove past would occasionally cause a stronger gust to blow against (y/n)’s hair, pushing it away from their face. The music from inside of the club sounded muffled from where they stood on the sidewalk that was cast with a soft orange hue from the streetlights, a half smoked cigarette nestled between their fingers. They took a drag from it, tasting the nicotine. They never particularly enjoyed the taste but it made them feel a little bit at ease, especially during the exuberant atmospheres of parties.

It was baffling as to why their boyfriend, Calum and his bandmates insisted on renting out clubs every other two weeks and indulging in exorbitant amounts of alcohol and dancing to deafening electronic pop until they were stumbling out of the doors in the wee hours of the morning. Calum had never made it too difficult on (y/n), trying not to get drunk too often. In all honesty he would rather stay at home with this partner rather than leave them while he was out, or even bring them along like they did tonight. (y/n) heard the music as it was unobstructed for a few seconds - assuming it was someone exiting the club, before the doors closed again.

“Mind a puff?” a voice said beside them and they turned to see Calum there, sporting his The Sensation t-shirt and a pair of black slacks. They handed him the cigarette and he placed it between his lips. (y/n) watched as the orange ring glowed and ate up the white casing slowly as he took a drag and how he blew the smoke up in a small cloud. “You alright?” Calum asked, as he handed the tab back to them, placing an arm around their waist and pulling them closer to his side.

“Yes, I just wanted some air, you know how all of this isn’t really my thing,” They dropped their cigarette, stubbing it out with their foot.

“Of course I do. Do you want to go home?” he asked, staring down at them as they continued looking out into the distance and at the bright neon from the 7-11 sign down the road.

“Actually, yeah,” they responded, looking at him once more, flashing him a small smile, which he returned before pressing a kiss to their forehead, mumbling an “okay”.

“We should say goodbye to the boys first, don’t you think?” Calum suggested and (y/n) felt their heart sink. They could never fathom why the other boys behaved somewhat hostile and cold towards them, whenever they met at parties most of the time. In the rare occasion they did meet at other smaller gatherings, the boys would only exchange a few words with them - only deciding to speak to them when Calum included them in a conversation. (y/n) would more often than not, stay silent by Cal’s side, disengaging from any conversation on the fear that they would dislike them more, in case their suspicions of their feelings were any way true.

Calum and (y/n) stepped into the club, immediately greeted by the strong smell of tequila and sweat, the cold air conditioning not really helping. Their fingers interlaced as they made their way through the stragglers, (y/n) feeling an awful discomfort at the unknown skin-on-skin contact with the strangers on top of the blaring of Physical by Dua Lipa through every corner of the room, the bass boosts giving them unsettling vibrations at the base of their throat. The couple approached a small booth where the other three youngsters sat with their girlfriends, sharing some drinks and laughing over the music. They set their eyes on (y/n) who was a few metres away with Calum, the girls giving them friendly waves which they returned with a grin which faltered quickly upon noticing the blank expressions on the boys’ face, especially Ashton.

He made eye contact with them for a second before quickly blinking away, the eye roll not going unnoticed by (y/n) which took them back slightly, feeling a small lump form in their throat upon discovering that their suspicions may be true. Maybe I’m overthinking, they thought but the not-so-inconspicuous eye roll from Michael who saw the couple reaching the table, made the whole idea seem anything but farfetched. (y/n) stood at the edge of the table, while Calum leaned over to whisper something in Luke’s ear who nodded, giving him a thumbs up and fist bump. He did the same to the other two, before returning to (y/n)’s side and giving one last wave to the table, which they did, out of courtesy as well. Only Luke paid attention, even flashing a small smile.

The car ride was awfully quiet, not much being spoken between the two except in the beginning of their journey where Calum told (y/n) that they could choose the songs to play. They stared out the window at the settled down, LA city at 1 a.m. with some shops still having their display lights on, while some had them off. They liked the city streets at this time in comparison to the multiple traffic jams and hustle throughout the day and early nights. Most of the town were indoors or at the club, leaving the roads almost empty and calm. Wait For Me by KIngs of Leon played softly in the background, as Calum turned at the traffic lights right before turning to spare his partner a glance, worried at their lack of chatter.

“Are you alright, (y/n), you haven’t been talking much tonight,” he said, resuming his attention to the road, letting his hand fall softly on their thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. (y/n) blinked out of their daze at his contact, slowly turning to look at him while placing their hand on his wrist.

“Yeah, I’m fine Cal. Just a bit tired, that’s all,” He didn’t push it further, even though he knew that they weren’t being entirely truthful. He could read them like a book and he knew that (y/n) was only this quiet when they were upset because even when they were tired, they’d go off into pointless waffle that didn’t really make sense as much as it did in their head, which made Calum so curious to how their brain was wired in addition to finding it absolutely adorable.

(y/n) was quick to get into bed, having changed into one of Calum’s shirts that they always slept in and joggers. While he was in the bathroom, his phone pinged with a text and his phone lit up as (y/n) was scrolling through their own. They didn’t mean to but their eyes subconsciously glanced over to the strip of message that flashed on his lockscreen, covering the part of his background which was a photo - taken on their holiday to Venice - of them kissing on the Gondola as it floated under a bridge.

Mate, i hope this isnt rude

The first message read and it was from Ashton. Not long after, another message strip appeared under the other.

We think (y/n) is trying to control you bro

This hurt to read. At this point, every suspicion they had of not being liked by the rest of the band confirmed itself which broke their heart. These were his brothers. His soulmates. They were his forever before themself. What would he think of them, when his own brothers didn’t like them? Would he change his mind on how he felt about them? A tear slipped down their cheek but they quickly wiped it away, their throat tight from the lump that had formed in it. Their stomach churned and their skin burned as the phone slowly went black again. (y/n) didn’t say a word and continued scrolling through their instagram when Calum returned from the bathroom, a pair of grey joggers hanging low on his hips. He climbed into bed next to them, grabbing his own phone. They looked at him from the corner of his eyes, and saw him typing a reply to the text from Ashton, they looked away, trying to ignore it. It was difficult when his arm wrapped around their frame and he leaned down to their cheek pressing a kiss to it.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong and why you look like you’re going to cry?” his voice was deep but soft. It was their safety blanket. Hearing him was more than a reassurance that he was going to be there and be honest through all of their doubts. (y/n) sighed, locking their phone and placing it in their lap, leaning into Calum’s arm more causing him to nestle his chin in the crook of their neck and shoulder, his other hand rubbing down their arm comfortingly.

“Why don’t the other boys like me?” Calum’s heart sank at the intense amount of pain that they showed. “I want them to....they’re practically your family,” they added softly, their voice shaking, the tears forming again. Calum didn’t say anything at first, instead pulling them onto his lap, wrapping both his arms around their middle and pressing light kisses to the exposed skin at the top of their shoulder.

“They don’t dislike you, (y/n). They’re just a bit bothered by the fact that we always leave early whenever you come out to parties with us,” he spoke again almost immediately. “There’s nothing wrong with not liking clubs or any of that shit ok? I’m not one of those crazy party people either to be fair, and you have nothing to worry about anymore. I explained everything to them,” (y/n) looked at Calum as he finished his sentence, looking him smile back down at them. “If you like, we could invite them to lunch maybe? Somewhere that can help them have a proper conversation with you instead of just at the club all the time?” he offered and (y/n) smiled a little bit, trusting Calum.

“That sounds lovely, thank you Cal,” they shared a kiss before he hugged them tightly again, swaying them to the side slightly, making their mind feel at ease which (y/n) could not be more grateful for. 

END

[itsbxtgirl-a]

that’s my girl // stephbabs

WHO: Barbara Gordon & Stephanie Brown. Mentions of Tim Drake and Ra’s al Ghul.

WORD COUNT: 2171 words.

LOCATION: Wayne Manor.

GENERAL NOTES: Babs comes to visit Stephanie post her return to Gotham. Stephanie is unsure of her footing and what to do next, how to go on. A spark of an idea and a change is made. 

WARNINGS: Mentions of injuries, past trauma, violence.

STEPH: Tim's room was practically silent, Steph staring at the cracked screen of her phone she had found in Tim's room. Occasionally it lit up, Steph staring until it went dark once more. The lockscreen made her heart clench each time she saw the photo of her pressed against Tim's chest, his arm around her and smiles on their faces. She felt numb to the tears that slid down her cheeks and dried there, making the bandage across the gash on her cheek damp. Ra's' personal reminder of Tim she'd now have for the rest of her life. The reminder she was the reason Tim was sent to his doom, his death in her eyes.

A choked out sob escaped the shaking blonde, her curling up in on herself as much as she could without her ribs and shoulder screaming in protest. The sharp knock on Tim's bedroom door had her wanting to just scream out. "Go away!" She shouted. "I'm not hungry, thirsty, nor do I want to see anyone! Just leave!" Her words were punctuated with a broken sob, burying her face in Tim's pillow and giving into the urge to scream until she couldn't anymore.

Every bit of her was cracked into a thousand pieces and Steph had no idea how she was going to put them back together anytime soon.

BABS: The shout cut harshly even through the door, and Barbara almost considered listening. She could remember that feeling, wanting to crawl out of her own skin, never wanting anyone to look at her again. She still felt it sometimes. There was a reason she spent the majority of her life tucked away in her clock tower, surrounded by firewalls both electronic and physical. There were very few who could slip past them so easily, and Steph was one of them.

Steph who was on the other side of the door sobbing, her own firewall in place. Barbara pushed through, because Steph was stubborn and determined and positive and had steadfastly broken through every one of Barbara's walls, and there was no way she'd leave her alone. Even if that meant leaving her tower, even if it meant coming to Wayne Manor. Sometimes walls were meant to be pushed down.

She pressed the door shut quietly behind her and wheeled up next to the bed. Touch wasn't right, not unless Stephanie expressly wanted it, but she was close. "You know, I'd listen, but a while ago I made a promise to you that you'd never be alone. That's not just on the streets, Steph. I'm here."

STEPH: The door opened and Steph curled her fingers up into the fabric of the sheet on Tim’s bed. Then it shut. Another scream started to form in her chest, heart thumping and the hurricane of emotions she couldn’t pick apart started to grow until she heard that familiar voice.

Babs. Original Batgirl, her mentor and one of the people she trusted the most. Would she think she’s weak too? That she should have been better? The thought made her choke back a sob.

“It’s my fault.” Steph finally whispered, back towards Babs as she laid there. “I didn’t—I didn’t even get to see him. He wouldn’t let me see him. I killed him. I sent him off to his death at the hands of his worst nightmare all because I wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t careful.” She was spiraling now, breath hiccuping as the tears rolled down her cheeks once more.

BABS: "Hey, hey." Barbara finally reached out, one hand resting on Steph's shaking shoulder. She couldn't see her face (maybe that was intentional), but she could hear the pain in every hiccup, in the way her words started to tumble.

She thought of rooftops and soft voices through the comms, the first time someone slipped through Stephanie's fingers. That sinking feeling that nothing will ever make better, and how this was worse. This wasn't some nameless loss, this was Tim.

"You are not responsible for the actions of evil men. There is one person responsible for this, and it's not you. Blaming yourself is like..." Blaming herself for opening the door. The thought caught, and she let it slip away, sinking somewhere deep and heavy in her chest. "You did everything you could, if I know you at all. Tell me you didn't get a few good zings in."

Another pause, "And you know we'll find him. I won't rest until we know where he is."

STEPH: Steph could hear Babs' words, make sense of them and comprehend them, but she didn't believe them. There was a reason she had stepped back from Batgirl, feeling a crippling dread that she would never measure up to Babs herself. This just proved it in her mind, she got the love of her life sent off to his worst nightmare all because she was the worst bat of them all.

A shudder wracked through the blonde and she sobbed weakly, finally turning to look at Babs head on. The bandage covered the majority of her cheek, left eye swollen still and purple and black bruises covered the pale skin there. "It doesn't matter, does it? I still lost. He didn't...he didn't even let me see him. I didn't even get to tell him I was sorry." She gasped out, feeling like her chest was moments away from caving in on itself.

"Ra's—" Even saying his name turned Steph's stomach and she paled considerably, shaking her head and going silent instead of finishing her thought. "...I killed him, Babs. He chose to save me. I'm not worth that."

BABS: "Don't you ever, ever say you are not worth it. Steph–" Barbara moved her hand to cup Stephanie's cheek, running a thumb gently to wipe away the tears. Gentle for bruises and cuts and injustices. "Look at me. You are worth more than you will ever know."

Stephanie had shown up in Barbara's life during a time in which she thought she'd never be happy again. Not truly, not easily. She'd tucked herself away so completely, both physically and emotionally, even her doctor was beginning to question why she never smiled. It took time, but Stephanie changed all of that. Stephanie with her quips and determination and bright smiles even the face of overwhelming odds. Stephanie who plowed through Barbara's warnings and walls.

She was worth it. And clearly Tim Drake thought so as well.

"Ra's is vile, and he will not get away with this." Her voice cut, no room for argument. "He's the one to blame. You did not make him take you, you did not make him take Tim, you have nothing to apologize for. The only one who benefits from you blaming yourself is him. Don't let him make you doubt yourself."

STEPH: Steph's eyes reluctantly shifted over to look at Babs' face, heart dropping. Her eyes fluttered shut weakly at the touch to her cheek and she let out a weak sob. This was Babs, the one who she strived so hard to be good for. To impress and make proud. Her doubt and fears in herself made her step away from the Batgirl mantle she had been so attached to. She saw the good in her even when Steph didn't see it herself. So why was she having such a hard time believing her in saying she was worth it.

"I don't know what else to do, Babs." Steph whispered weakly. The dark cloud that hung over her head seemed to infect every crevice and corner of Tim's room, it was saturated in her devastation. "I'm hanging up the suit. I can't be Spoiler anymore. It's...it's tainted now. All I can think of when I even try to think of going out again is how I let Tim down." Maybe next time you'll be more careful. Maybe next time you'll be more careful. Maybe next time—

The tears wouldn't stop. She didn't know how to make them stop, rolling down her cheeks and her breath hitching with each staggering breath. "I don't know what to do anymore."

BABS: Barbara paused, running a hand along the top of her thigh. She couldn't feel it, she hadn't been able to feel it in a long time. It was the getting back up that had been the hardest part. It wasn't that she'd failed, but the road ahead had looked like one failure after another. There were no next steps, there was only a suit on a rack she'd never wear again. But she got up. If only to prove him wrong.

"Do you remember the first time someone slipped from your grasp?" Barbara could. Curse her perfect memory, she could hear it. Stephanie's broken 'no,' and the quiet defeat when she said she was done. Her first loss, and Batgirl was back on a shelf. "You wanted to quit then, too. Being a hero just wasn't for you. But you got back up, Stephanie. You got back up, and you went on to take down the person actually responsible."

Her hand stilled, moving from her lap to the hand rim of her chair in a white-knuckled grip. Bringing up the past was a calculated risk. "You're stronger, better than you think, always have been. Don't complicate what comes next. You get up. Get up because Ra's was wrong to ever mess with you, or because you're stronger than he led you to believe, or to prove you can. Just get back up, and we'll figure the rest out from there."

STEPH: That question took the wind out of Steph. How could she forget? You never forget the first failure. The heart stopping moment where your best wasn't enough. It had broken her. The good guys were always supposed to win, right? That's how it was supposed to go anyways, but life has a funny way of proving you just how wrong you can be. The good guys don't always win, you can't always save everyone.

Babs was right, she always was. There was still the mere thought of grabbing her Spoiler gear and putting it on made her feel sick. It felt almost tainted now, like she couldn't even fathom wearing it when she held that mantle while Tim was taken to his worst nightmare. Whether she was convinced or not, she felt responsible. She could have been better.

"...I don't know how to get up this time. If I get back up, it can't be as Spoiler. I can't do that. Ra's ruined that for me. He...he ruined so many things, Babs. I have to hang it up. I just...I don't know what to do next now."

BABS: "Then try a different suit." The implication was clear. There was a symbol they'd shared once, both making it their own in different ways, but ultimately holding up the same mantle. As resistant as Barbara had been at first, she'd come to find Stephanie wore it well. She'd go head to head with anyone who dared say otherwise.

Unfortunately, the loudest protestor had been Stephanie herself, and the suit had found a familiar home on a rack. Barbara only begrudged her the change a little. Spoiler was Stephanie's, there were no shoes to fill.

But she wondered if Steph knew she never had to fit Barbara's boots, she only had to make them her own. That...

"I've told you before, I'll say it again. The suit you wear, that only gets you so far, Stephanie. Anyone can scare off a mugger with the bat symbol or a hood. The big stuff? That's you. It's always been you, and Ra's will never ruin that for you. Don't let him."

STEPH: Steph was quiet for a long, long moment. The implication was entirely too clear. Batgirl. It was a thought Steph had put in a box and shoved to the back of her mind. It had been a lot, the pressure she had put on herself to manage filling Babs' shoes. She had fallen, terrified of not being enough. She never wanted to let Babs down especially. She had much more faith in her than she thought was deserved.

Tears stung at her eyes for what felt like the millionth time. Letting out a shaky breath, Steph swallowed hard and looked at Babs. Batgirl. Batgirl. Batgirl. It was a loop in her mind on repeat, feeling entirely too much like coming home, yet moving out on her own to face the world standing on her own two feet.

Steph would do this for her. For Tim. For Babs. To show that bastard that he wouldn't get away with doing this to Tim, to her. Letting out a weak noise, Steph nodded rapidly and wiped at her face. "He won't. I can't...I can't let him. Not to me. Not to Timmy."

The fire was dim, burning barely bright enough, but a spark could lead to a flame. The flame could cause a forest fire and Stephanie Brown was a force to be reckoned with now. She'd make sure of that.

[qtyong]

Silence is My Home

Title: Silence is My Home

Pairing: Eunwoo x Reader

Genre: Zombie Apocalypse AU, Angst

Word Count: 2,383

You ever see those movies or read those books about zombie apocalypses and point out everything wrong with it? You think about how the people are so stupid. They never realize it’s a zombie attack even though they look like zombies and everyone has heard of them. You think, if that happened to you, you’d notice it right away. I was one of those people.

The thing is, there’s always something the books don’t tell you. They don’t tell you the psychology behing it. They don’t tell you how terrifying it really is. They don’t tell you that your brain can’t comprehend what’s going on and you can’t fathom that a zombie apocalypse is actually happening so you make up excuses.

It’s Ebola, you tell yourself. It’s rabies, you reason. You convince yourself that’s it’s something you know because you’re so scared of not knowing. You’re scared because you have no control of the situation. What’s even more terrifying is watching your family lose themselves and not being able to do anything to save them.

It was a summer when it happened. I was in college but visiting my family. My brother was home for the vacation too and we’d walk our dogs together every day. Friday, we decided to take the dogs out at a later time, maybe eight o'clock or nine. I can’t remember anymore.

All I remember is wishing I had convinced my brother to walk one more lap around the neighborbood with me. I could’ve saved him at least.

I came home one lap later to silence in the house, because it isn’t loud like the movies. There are no screams or moans, and that in itself is terrifying. Instead, the zombies walk in silence.

I didn’t know what had happened. I couldn’t comprehend that something had broken out in my neighborhood. However, I had enough common sense to run like hell when I saw my mom, dad, and brother silent, lifeless, and painted red with blood.

Luckily, I had my phone with me, but that was all. No polaroids or notes for memories and things to look back on, just a phone with 74% and my sleek, blue headphones.

For the first week after running away, I think my dog whined every day. I don’t blame her either. I think I would’ve cried if I was strong enough, but l wasn’t. I buried my emotions in order to keep going, because if I stopped to cry for my family, friends, and my other dog, I would never stop.

I’m thankful I never saw my other dog when he was “zombified.” I can still look at photos of him and pretend he’s okay. I can pretend he’s alive and well and he ran away safely. I can pretend even though I know he’s gone deep down.

I’ve been in the woods with my current dog for a couple months now. I always thought about how she had it worse than me. All she knew was I tore her away from our family. She didn’t resent me because I don’t think dogs are capable of that. However, she couldn’t understand why they were gone and I know she missed them like I did.

Sometimes when I miss them, I turn on my phone to see my lockscreen which is a picture of the six of us, my two dogs, dad, mom, and brother. I checked my phone for news updates the first night and eventually I pieced together what happened.

The things about zombie apocalypses, you never know where they started, when they started, and how they started. You can’t know because there’s no signal and there’s no one to give news.

My phone is at 60% now. I used a lot of it in the first week but after that, I conserved it because I knew it was my only valuable resource. I only use it to look at my lockscreen now and then.

I haven’t seen anyone since I ran away, not even a zombie. They tend to stay where the people are because they need food. I’ve been living in a tree, eating bugs. Disgusting as it is, it’s all you can do when old stores have been raided and invested with zombies and the animals have either fled to safer areas or died.

My life has been boring since the outbreak. Sure, it’s terrifying being in a zombie apocalypse, but I know how to handle myself and I’m safe, for the most part.

It’s hard to be scared when the only zombies you actually saw were your parents and you haven’t seen any since, besides old news reports.

I decide to climb down the tree, searching for some food. Even though there’s no danger around, I tend to stay in the trees for most of the day. Maybe it’s old animal instincts in my brain.

My dog has trained herself to stay by my side at all times and I don’t leash her to the tree anymore. I’m afraid something could kill her and she wouldn’t leave because she’d be stuck to the tree. Although, she’s had her fair share of times she wriggled out of her collar.

I’m practically inseperable with my dog. We’re two peas in a pod. She used to eat bugs years ago when I adopted her, so she has no trouble finding food.

Every now and then, she’ll catch a bird and we get to start a fire and eat something other than cockroaches and beetles.

Jumping down from the tree, I leave my dog, who’s sleeping, and take a short walk in the area of the woods I know. After a couple minutes, my dog has woken up and found me to join my walk. We weave through trees and vegetation before heading back to our home. Arriving at the area with my phone and built up wood supply, I swear I can see a figure. My dog sees what I see as well because she starts to crouch low, baring her teeth.

Another thing I forgot to mention, I have a pocket knife with me as my only weapon to defend myself. I always took it with me when I would walk my dog in order to protect myself from strangers.

I take the knife out of its case, holding it warily in front of me. The figure starts to move again, probably having heard my presence.

That’s another thing about zombies. You can’t tell the difference between them and humans easily, except for the eyes. There is no way to know if it is a zombie or a human unless it turns around.

And it does.

He’s a human and I don’t think I’ve ever felt so much relief in my life. But with the relief comes fear as well.

'This man is in my makeshift home. This man is probably starved and scared. Scared people will kill out of fear.'

I cautiously walk toward the boy, knife held out but not very threateningly.

“Who are you?” I whisper, not intentionally though. I haven’t used my voice in what feels like ages so it’s as if my vocal chords forgot how to work. I repeat the question but louder this time. My voice sounds foreign and memories flash through my mind of my family’s voices and dinner talks we’d have.

The boy speaks, bringing my attention back to the situation, “My name is Dongmin.” The boy smiles at me, as if I’m not holding a knife at him, as if we aren’t in a post-apocalyptic world and can die at any given second.

It is at this moment that I take in his appearance. His hair flows down his head, stopping by his ears. Black paints the locks, reminding me of my mom’s eyes before I left her behind. His hair is disheveled and there’s dried dirt on his face and all over his body. There’s probably dried blood mixed in but I don’t bother to analyze him any further. He doesn’t seem to pose a threat or be scared of me.

I reluctantly lower my knife, slowly extending my hand. “Y/n,” I say, attempting a smile back.

It’s hard to contain my happiness, realizing I’d actually met someone still sane and unaffected by the zombies.

“That’s a pretty name,” Dongmin replies, as his eyes curl into a smile, bringing his mouth along with them.

I want to say some kind of thank you but it’s odd how sane he seems.

“Aren’t you scared?”

“Of course,” is all he says after that.

It becomes silent after that, probably because it’s the norm. Silence is what we’d lived in since the outbreak and it’s become a safe haven. Silence is like an answer when there is nothing to make sense of the situation. I collect some bugs for an early lunch, not saying anything, and Dongmin picks up on what I’m doing. He begins to help and looks for bugs. I suppose he knows how to catch animals because he sets up a trap in a bush semi-far from the home.

There’s an unspoken agreement between us that we are now friends. Or maybe teammates is a better word. We’re both on the same side of this cruel world and we’re still sane when at least most of the population is dead or undead.

It’s disturbingly comforting. I have someone now that understands me and I feel at ease, even though everything is chaos outside of our home in the woods.

My dog seems to trust Dongmin and they get along quite well. Sometimes, I suspect she likes him more than me, but I know that isn’t true.

For the next week, Dongmin and I don’t speak. I show him around the woods and my makeshift calendar carved into the tree bark. He shows me how to make an animal trap with his hands and I show him how to properly eat bugs. We could talk, but there’s no need for words. They get in the way of things. Everything we need to say is said through gestures and mutual understanding.

We also catch some small animals with the trap. The first thing we catch is a bunny and it’s after a week. We both want it for food but we don’t have the heart to kill it. So instead, we use my dog’s old leash to train it.

I decide to step out of my home of silence, turning to Dongmin, “Do you have a name for it?”

I think my voice startled him a bit because we got so used to silence. “I like the name ‘Bin.’”

I hum in agreement, thinking it’s a cute name.

Suddenly, an idea pops into my head and I stand up quickly. “Did you play any sports?”

Dongmin stands up as well. “I used to play soccer and basketball.”

I unhook Bin from the tree, taking him on a walk to a different area of the woods while Dongmin and my dog follow me.

I stop when I’m at the area I know. It’s a cave I visited a couple times. I would stay here but I’m afraid I would get stuck if a zombie ever ventures into the forest. I use it for shelter from the cold and rain every now and then.

Walking into the cave, I make my way to an area of level dirt with five small rocks in a pile.

I sit down, placing two rocks near me, about five inches apart. I toss two rocks to Dongmin. “Sit down over there. It’s a game I used to play as a kid. I call it rock soccer. It’s not much but I don’t have a real soccer ball or anything so this is what I do for entertainment.”

After explaining the game, Dongmin sets up his goal with the two rocks and we use the fifth one to play rock soccer.

I don’t know what time it is when we stop playing but it’s dark out. We lean against the cave wall, breathing in sync. “Why’d you come into the woods?” I ask him, curious of the time we met a week ago.

“I lived in my apartment for a while because it was safe but eventually my roommate got infected. I had to leave and the woods was close so I came here. I’m just lucky you didn’t kill me, thinking I was a zombie.”

“I almost did, but when you turned around I realized you were still human.”

Dongmin smiles weakly before replying, “My roommate’s name was Moonbin.”

“That’s why you named the bunny, Bin,” I say, continuing his thought.

He nods and turns to me. “Promise me something.”

A nervous look plasters itself on my face and I find myself nodding while swallowing my own saliva.

He pulls up his sleeve and I feel my senses go numb. I’ve only known him for a week, and maybe it’s the loneliness talking. Maybe it’s the fact that he may be the only person I ever see before I die. Maybe it’s an emptiness I’m trying to fill.

Whatever it is, it makes my heart hurt when he replies with six words. Six words is all it takes to cause all of my built of memories to surface and spill out of my eyes, cascading down my cheeks.

I think about his smile when I say it that first day. I think about how he reminds me of my dad and how I miss him. I think about how nice he was to always help me with finding food and even teaching me how to make a trap. I think about how easily he trusted and how easily that trust could’ve gotten him killed. But I guess it doesn’t matter, and I guess I understand when he says those six words. And instead of giving my home of silence as an answer, I find a new answer.

My new answer is the tears streaming down my face and his arms wrapping around me and comforting my shaking figure. My answer is that I have fallen for this man in front of me and pretty soon he will fall too, but in an entirely different way because he says, “kill me before it does.”

[loverknj]

miss, 12:01 am [knj]

‘Because missing someone you’re mad at is absolute hell.’ 

Pairing: Kim Namjoon X Reader 

Warnings: minor angst and slight fluff at the end 

Word count: 1.75 k words 

When you find yourself saying that certain phrase again, you can’t help but mentally reprimand and scowl at yourself as you steal a glance at the clock. Because it was only 8:47 in the morning, and you have already mumbled: “I don’t miss kim namjoon.” to yourself, for the 8th time today.

As if mumbling it to yourself more would somehow, magically brainwash you into thinking that yes, you really don’t miss him when deep down you know you do.

You miss him. You miss him. You miss him.

You miss him when you shouldn’t even be thinking about him at all. “You’re supposed to be mad at him, remember?”, you groaned. ‘Remember that fight last night? Be mad at him! Don’t miss him. Don’t miss his stupid face and stupid dimples.’

Don’t miss him because it’s already been a day and there’s not even a text or missed call. Don’t miss him because he was the one who started that stupid fight. Don’t miss him because he’s not here, when he should be. Don’t miss him just because you shouldn’t.

But even if the continuous ‘you shouldn’t’s and ‘don’t’s, your heart and mind still manages to find a way to navigate towards your kim namjoon.

You shouldn’t miss him. But you do.

------

You know you miss him when you’re getting ready in the bathroom.

When you accidentally spot his toothbrush lying lazily in your cup from the corner of your eye, uncoincidentally facing away from yours. And that’s when you find yourself frowning at it but before you could even fathom what was going on, your limbs had already taken action and you find yourself already placing your toothbrush far away from his, snickering a ‘Let’s see what a little distance can do to you.’ to it.

But you miss him more 10 minutes in, when you are in the shower, and you unknowingly find yourself using his musky body wash instead of yours. You had initially blew it off as a slip, that you hadn’t meant to use the bottle which was far away from your usual body wash, but despite your initial annoyance at yourself, you eventually crumble and allow yourself to sniff in his scent, pretending just for a second that he is right beside you.

By the time you left the bathroom, you had let out a bitter ‘Stupid kim namjoon’ under your breath, but the way you put your toothbrush back in its place, next to his seems to say otherwise, along with how you whispered ‘he is already so far away from me, let’s make my toothbrush suffer like how i am right now’ to yourself.

You know you miss him when you’re driving because you are reminded of him once again when you find yourself switching off the radio in lightning speed as a more than familiar tune comes on, the exact same tune you were the first listener to, even before Min Suga because the creator himself had wanted your opinion on it first.  

You had been seated in your favourite spot in MonStudio: Namjoon’s lap when a pair of headphones had placed on you, along with a peck on the back of your head as he gently whispered a “have a listen to this, love.”

And as the soft melody flooded through your ears and namjoon’s voice drowned you, the way the owner of that voice was leaving you with little kisses and soft squeezes with his arms around you as you listened, doesn’t goes unnoticed.

By the time you were done, there were tears in your eyes and the song had left speechless due to how good it was. It was a soothing melody that you could go to sleep listening to, but whose lyrics spoke so much you’d cry relating to.

“It’s-” you sniffled, “it’s so good I can’t even find words, joon. I’m so so so proud of you… I-I…”

You had wanted to say more, told him about how his song took you down the memory lane, made you miss the people you lost, how it made you nostalgic, how you could listen to it every second of the day. But you couldn’t because of how choked up you were and he understood. He understood how you felt as he chuckled and just hugged you tighter against him, watching as your wiped away your tears.

He understood clearly just by how you pressed your lips against his, and he couldn’t help but mumble “I love you” between his uneven breaths.

Spring Day was your absolute favourite, but right now you had wanted nothing more than to curse at the radio DJ for playing that song on a day like this. Because in the screaming silence that you now sit in, you are once again drowning as namjoon’s voice burns a hole in your heart. ‘I miss you. Saying this makes me miss you more’.

I miss you. Yes, i miss you.

But where are you now, joon- ah?

You know you miss him when you’re in your usual seat in Caffeinated.

It was just like any Saturday, a cup of warm vanilla on your left, the fairy lights of Caffeinated glowing brightly above you, your laptop sitting on the table but the only thing missing was the man who would always sit right in front of you with his cup of americano.

It was a tradition for Joon and you to be in Caffeinated every Saturday, where you would work on your computer while he reads and steals little glances at you. And so, you find yourself staring at your lockscreen for far too long as you are stricken by the urge to either text or call him. But your stubbornness got the best of you and you find yourself just sat there, staring at a picture of kim namjoon with his famous dimpled smile.

And when your hand hovers over the power button, you hesitate. Thoughts of there being a probability of him calling or texting you invading, so you just throw your phone aside, and groan into your hands before continuing on the work in your hands again.  

You miss him. You really do.

You know you miss him by the time you’re leaving the cafe.

As you find yourself once again cursing at yourself when you almost end up buying an extra slice of cake and a coffee for namjoon, like you always do on the days he couldn’t make it on your coffee dates. But once the reality of your cold war sinks in, you are upset all over again.   

Because he was not here.  

Why did you both even fight. What did you even fight about, you can’t remember.

And if asked do you regret it, you’d undoubtedly say yes. A million times yes.

You know you miss him at the end of the day.

When you had whisper “who needs Kim Namjoon?” to yourself as you lied on his side of the bed, dressed only in his sweater and a pair of undies with your laptop playing a v live next to you.

Kim Namjoon’s V live, more specifically.

Which you had initially hesitated to watch when a notification from v app blinked at you at 9:45 p.m., the exact time when you and joon would usually facetime, making you freeze. The initial fear and reluctance of clicking in had faded away the first second you laid your eyes on him, because your breath is taken away as there sits the person you are craving for, kim namjoon, in the flesh, wearing his a black hoodie, talking with armys about a new song while eating takeout in monstudio with tired eyes.

‘He’s been skipping his meals again I see’ you’d commented to yourself and as you continue to scan through him in detail, you had come to notice that he seems distracted, and has been fiddling his rings and sighing too much despite the facade he tries to put on for the fans.

Maybe it’s the way you know him too well, but you could tell that he has putting himself through hell and misses you dearly too, which was confirmed a few minutes later.

“Why am i eating now? Is it supper?” he read from a comment from a fan and chuckled.

“No, this is dinner and...lunch?” he slurps another mouthful of food as he skims through the worried comments piling up. “Don’t worry, guys. I usually eat on time and Im not overworking myself. It’s just that I completely lost track of time today and forgot.”

“I usually have this… reminder, which tells me to take care of myself, and my meals on time but it… it isn’t working today,” He hummed.

“Did you break it oppa? Kekeke” a fan asked and you notice the way his pupils dilate and how he tried to blinked his shocked expression away. He let out a nervous chuckle, “...I really hope I didn’t break it. It means far too much for me.”

The way he rubs his neck nervously doesn’t slip past through your eyes, “I like to think of it just having a vacation day? That time will heal. I really hope it is okay.”  

You. You. You.

You knew he was talking about you. You were his reminder, who would always call or text or show up at his studio to check up on him and cheer him on; but due to the fight, the reminders stopped, or in namjoon’s terms, you were having ‘a vacation day’ and you know it’s killing him.

So, why are we doing this to each other, joon ah.

You know you miss him in the middle of the night, at 12:01 a.m..

When he’s by your side, in your bed, letting out ragged breaths, as you both just lay there staring at one another. No words were exchanged in the dark silence but it was those type of silence which meant everything.

He had come in hours after his v live, entering your bed, and arms at once. No questions or answers were needed and the anger and distraught feelings you initially had when you first saw him immediately evaporated when he caged you in his arms and refused to let you go.

Each pat on your head, each ‘i’m sorry. I’m an idiot’, each small peck on your lips, each ‘i missed you’ whisper, each ‘ i love you’, each gentle squeeze he gave reminded that you were now finally home.   

I missed you too, joon ah.

[jungnoir]

today, i smile;

shin hoseok | what nobody told him about being in love is that it can’t just go away, and sometimes, it never really leaves in the first place. a continuation of hate me now. | 3.9k words. | angst, eventual happiness. based off “I smile” by day6.

a/n: originally, I wasn’t planning on continuing this little drabble, but I decided after a little day6 marathon (and a completely free weekend!) that this was warranted. also shout out to @wonhopes bc she mentioned wanting to write a sequel for hate me now just as i was writing the sequel. for hate me now. hehehe :)

Usually, people aren’t supposed to wake up to nightmares, rather from them, but Hoseok had somehow been the exception today.

The sun wasn’t falling from the sky, the government wasn’t being overthrown, and as far as he could fathom in his groggy mind, he wasn’t dead and in hell. In fact, Hoseok woke to a gentle sunrise and a warm bed, nothing out of place as it had been for the last year. He still had two eyes, two ears, and a mouth, and he felt pretty healthy to say the least. Yet, in the way that we all do when something has been going right a little too long, there’s a feeling of inexplainable dread hanging over his head the moment his eyes open that autumn morning. It’s only when he grabs his phone to check what had happened while he slept that he realized just why.

(1) Unread Message(s)

received: 8:22 a.m., september 4th, 2017 

(y/n): are you free?

Hoseok thinks his mind is playing tricks on him when that’s the first notification he sees on his lockscreen, the background ironically displaying a neon sign that reads “say goodbye to the past”.

He slides the notification to the right and his a feeling of nausea starts to settle in his chest when he realizes that his mind isn’t playing tricks on him, that in fact before that very question you’d sent, there were still the remains of your messages to each other before that fateful day a year ago. The ones he hadn’t had the heart to delete. 

He quickly checks the time once he makes himself sit up in bed, his sheet falling and exposing his bare chest to the cool air of his room. He feels a shiver run down his spine (and he can’t even say it’s due to the temperature) when he realizes it’s only been ten minutes since you’d sent that. His mind can only focus on the fact that ten minutes ago, you’d promptly risen for what he had hoped was a restful sleep, grabbed your phone and willingly texted him first thing. And of all things… asking for his time.

Hoseok’s mind practically short circuits trying to think of what to say, the very simple responses “yes” or “no” being lost on him just at the mention of your name. what could he really say? Would it even be enough? What exactly were you asking for, anyway?

hoseok: today? I should be. why?

He waits with baited breath, a feeling of uneasiness filling his stomach as he watches and blanks on what to say or think. There you are, on the other side of the phone, and he thinks for one horrid second that you might have accidentally texted him and that you’d only come into his life for just a few moments, only to leave him disoriented and in his feelings for the rest of the day. It had to be an accident, it had to be.

(y/n): good! I wanna get coffee with you, at that place on peach street? it’s cool if you don’t wanna but I’m free this morning and we should catch up

Was he missing something? Maybe he’d slept his way into an alternate universe where you’d broken his heart and not the other way around, or maybe a universe where you were just distant friends and hadn’t seen each other in a few weeks. He couldn’t come up with any logical reason the girl he’d broken the heart of would want to catch up with him, why she would feel she should catch up with him. You were always funny like that. He just couldn’t find it in him to laugh.

hoseok: when should I come?

(y/n): now, if you’re good. I work nearby it now so I thought it’d be a good place to meet up

hoseok: i’ll see you in 15

(y/n): drive safe!

He stares a little too long at your last message, chalking it up to your kind nature and nothing more, and even as he feels like he can taste last night’s dinner in his mouth at the thought of seeing you again after so long trying to be okay without you, he has to face the music because he’d already sealed his fate. He could handle a measly coffee date, that’s all you asked for. He owed you that much.

He’s been sitting in the window booth for a total of four minutes before he starts to feel nervous again.

He’d carefully checked the cafe the moment he had entered, in the darkest, simplest clothes he could find because he didn’t dare wish to stand out more than he had to today. When he had found you nowhere, he had taken a seat near the windows, where a clear view of the busy street outside allowed him a chance to focus on anything but what was coming for him. He spent his time counting people, counting pets, counting smiles, counting anything that moved to occupy himself. 

He felt dumb sitting there alone, tugging the sleeves of his black turtleneck over his large hands every time the door to the cafe swung open and you didn’t walk in after. He could hear your soft voice scolding him in his head (”Don’t pull your sleeves like that! It’ll stretch!”) but he couldn’t stop. Maybe if he waited a little longer for you, he’d disappear into that turtleneck completely.

For a moment, Hoseok contemplated sending a follow up text to you just in case you couldn’t make it after all, or maybe in case you’d forgotten altogether? But he hadn’t had a conversation with you in over a year until that very morning, and he didn’t want to make any sudden moves in fear of fucking everything up before it had a chance to be. He didn’t know what he might say that could make or break this opportunity, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

He’s just about to pull the neck of his sweater over his mouth and nose when the door swings open, and this time, his heart stutters in his chest when his expected disappointment turns into surprise.

You walk in, and it’s like a movie or something the way you look around for him, shining like a ray of sunlight or something more magnificent. Your cream coat isn’t buttoned up, billowing in the breeze of warm air that hits you the minute you enter the cafe, and he realizes with a frown that not one thing you’re wearing he’s seen before. From your sweater to your jeans to your boots, you’ve completely changed, and he recognizes nothing about you. Even your haircut is different, clean and neat and fitting for someone like you. You look so much better than you did when you were with him, and he’s glad. You look happier, freer.

The minute you see him, your mouth turns into a smile that surprises Hoseok into smiling back, and he bangs his hand on the bottom of the table in an effort to wave to you. He ignores the stinging despite the harsh lip bite he gives himself as you walk over, your voice soft and even the way you speak is lighter, “Hoseok! You look well!”

Hoseok finds it in him to finally pull his sleeves back to his wrists and raises his head to look at you, “You look beautiful.”

The words flow out of him against his will, and while your eyes flash with something that’s nowhere near happy, you quickly regain your composure and laugh it off, and Hoseok relishes in the sound even though he knows it’s fake, “Thanks, I guess.”

He remembered a time when your response was different.

“So, how are things?” You start, working your coat off your shoulders and setting your bag to the right of you. 

Hoseok wracks his brain for an answer, something that wouldn’t sound pathetic or boring or too pleasant, “Oh, well… I haven’t changed much. I’ve been visiting family a lot lately. I recently got a promotion at work, and I’ve got a cat now.”

Your eyebrow raises at this and you chuckle, “A cat? What’s the name?” “Rin. He’s a cuddler and I have the scars to prove it.” At this, Hoseok raises his arm and pulls down his sleeve to reveal white cuts along his skin, all very clearly due to the claws of an enraged cat. The sight makes you shake your head.

“That’s why I told you we should have gotten a dog.” “Psh,” Hoseok falls back into the booth’s seat with an easy smile, “dogs are overrated. It’s cats that’ll rule the world one day.”

You make a face of mock disgust, “I’ve never heard such blasphemy in my life. I’d rather die with the dogs, thank you very much.”

Hoseok is about to make another cat elitist remark when a waitress makes her way over, and the two of you fall into ordering something to eat instead of starting world war three (though, you’re very tempted to not let it go).

It’s several minutes later, when you have a warm tea in your hands and Hoseok is eating a parfait that you decide to speak once more, having observed the muscles in his body no longer tense like they were when you first saw him. “You really do look well, Hoseok. I’m glad.”

Hoseok’s movements come to a halt, mouth full of yogurt and spoon digging for a blueberry when you say this. He tries really hard not to look you in the eye, instead focusing his gaze on your delicate hands holding your teacup, “So, how have you been?”

You, in turn, try not to feel hurt when he brushes off your comment, “Ah, things are really nice. I moved to a small house a little out of the city, and like I told you, I got a new job at a firm up the street. I’m an assistant so some days are pretty hectic, but I’m having such a wonderful time, Hoseok. It really feels like the job I needed, you know? I’m also going out more. I’ve been clubbing almost every other weekend with my friends.”

Hoseok nods, a bit surprised at the sound of you clubbing, “Really? You used to hate clubs with a passion before.”

Your smile turns a little tight, “Feelings change, apparently.”

Hoseok swallows the lump in his throat and shrinks back into his seat as if to escape the nasty feeling arising in his heart. The guilt weighs a ton, even twelve months later, it seems.

“It’s nothing major, Hoseok. I just like letting loose. Something I had no idea I liked before. Now that I have a bit of free time on my hands, it’s riveting. I’m sure there are things you’ve found out you actually really like too.” You bargain, the awkwardness in the air growing by the second. It doubles in size when Hoseok doesn’t reply for a minute.

You’re seconds from taking back your words, feeling bad for bringing up what was clearly still a tough topic. It was you that had called him here, you who had dug up all the bad memories that had followed your painful breakup, and it was you now making what was supposed to be a simple exchanging of words turn into a game of “who had moved on more?”. Hoseok beats you to it, however, “What else are you up to?”

“I… I’m dating someone.” You start tentatively, fully prepared to change the subject if he showed discomfort.

Yet, to your shock (and slight disappointment), he doesn’t show anything at all but a tough face you know all too well. It hurts you that he’s trying to play brave right now, “Tell me about him.”

You don’t exactly know where to start, whether to indulge about his interests and hobbies or to describe him physically, so instead, you start telling him the story of how you two met. You explain how the new job allowed you to meet Eunwoo, the person tasked with showing you around the workplace and getting you settled into your job. After a few bump-ins at the coffee machine, he had made it known that he was attracted to you and thus you began to date. It was nothing serious yet, but you liked him and he you, and it was the first time in a year that you’d felt romantic feelings for someone other than your ex sitting across from you at this table.

As you talked, Hoseok listened attentively, picking up on the details about how Eunwoo was an adventurer, someone who liked to go the extra mile. He lit up the room and everyone followed him, something that made a lot of people jealous of you for dating him. You had expressed it didn’t bother you that much; he wasn’t anything like you’d ever had before, and you admitted it was an exciting prospect to consider. He was, as Hoseok listened, nothing like him. And that was probably a good thing.

Eunwoo would know what he wanted the moment he wanted it. He wouldn’t confuse himself and end up losing the one thing he loved most.

“…and yeah,” you say and take a breath, a small smile on your face, “my friends love him.” 

Hoseok thinks, against his better judgement, that once upon a time your friends loved him too. “He must be a keeper then. I’m glad you’ve found someone who makes you feel alive, (Y/N). I… I only want you to feel loved.”

You look up from your tea with a jerk, and he looks up too, thinking something was wrong. Your breaths come out quick all of a sudden, eyes blazing as they stare into his own. They’re still so warm and familiar, almost like you never stopped looking in them. Almost like you hadn’t been dreaming of them every night for the last year. 

You stare and stare, trying to get a grip on your breathing when Hoseok pushes himself up from his seat and grabs some napkins from the table to hand to you, and you look at him in confusion before he points at your face, “You’re crying.”

Just as instantly as he says it, you become aware of the warm liquid trailing down your cheeks and making you gasp in embarrassment. They’re rushing from your eyes in an outflow, not contained even as you try to force yourself to stop, the surface of the napkins you press under your eyes quickly become damp and you think there’s something wrong with you for a minute, but it’s just the stunted sadness that had been creeping up on you since last Sunday, the sadness that made you ask him out this morning in the first place.

“I-I’m sorry, Hoseok,” he hates that you even think to apologize right now, knowing it was all his fault you were crying in the first place, “this is probably so awkward for you. I don’t mean to act like a weird, obsessive ex or anything, and I know you’d much rather be anywhere else than here talking to me about how I’ve ‘moved on’ but… I needed to see you once more to make sure.”

“Make sure of what?” His eyebrows screw up in confusion. 

“I needed to make sure I wasn’t in love with you anymore… so I could finally move on. But seeing you… seeing you still the same, still lovely as ever… no amount of what I change will ever make me forget how fucking lovestruck I am for you and probably always will be. What I felt for you was colossal. Hoseok, I swear my heart is going to break in two if I try to pretend I never loved you and still don’t.” 

A range of emotions hit him at once, watching you fumble to appear fine as people nearby start looking over to see what the problem was. To save you the embarrassment further, he slides out of his side of the booth and into yours, turning his broad shoulders until you’re shielded from nosy ears and prodding eyes. You seem to be thankful for it because you sink a little when he does it, but at the same time, you shift away from him as far as the booth would allow. He doesn’t blame you, but boy does it sting.

“Don’t… don’t force yourself to stop loving me,” he hates how asshole-y it makes him sound, but he quickly keeps talking, “don’t force anything in life, okay? Especially not feelings. If you love me still, that’s… that’s fine. It hurts probably, I know, but it’ll fade one day. You’ll keep dating Eunwoo and find out he’s a fucking great guy who you deserve to have, and he’ll help you forget all about me. There’ll come a day when you think about me and laugh instead of cry. People move on. It takes time, but it happens.” He has to greatly resist the urge to cradle your cheek in his large hand and pull you into a hug, because he knows it wouldn’t help you at all.

Still, he wishes.

You wipe at your face with the sleeves of your sweater, “I know, I know. I just wish it didn’t. I wish I could flip a switch and-” “And it would all go away? I understand.” 

At this, you scoff bitterly, “Isn’t that exactly what happened for you? One day you decided you didn’t love me anymore and it took you two months to say it?”

Hoseok, somewhere between horrified you’d think so and understanding that you would, frowns so hard you give him a funny look in return, “It… it came fast, I admit… but things aren’t what I thought they were when I first felt indifferent toward you. My first thought was, yes, I wasn’t in love with you anymore. My feelings for you had dwindled and everything felt heavy when we talked about our future together, something I was once so adamant about… but I realize now why that was. And… and maybe it was my mind telling me I wasn’t ready, or maybe it was my broken heart trying to save me from disappointment again. I still don’t really know what made me feel that way for so long, but I never… never fell out of love with you. Not really.”

Your lungs inflate to their full capacity but they stay that way, something in you too afraid to exhale, because this sounds way too similar to a dream you’d had more than once over the last year. “What… what are you saying?”

“I think I sabotaged myself,” Hoseok bitterly laughs, leaning into the seat with a heavy sigh, “I guess I thought that everything was going too well. Back then, that used to be a sign that everything was about to go to shit and I think I felt indifferent toward the situation and not you. I felt like if I didn’t break it off, you would, soon, and I didn’t know if I could take that feeling again. Not with you.”

It sounded pathetic to him, now that he was saying it out loud. He really fucked up, didn’t he? 

“That’s… that’s terrible, Hoseok.” 

“I know. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“But I’m glad you told me.”

Hoseok turns to look at you, blinking and lost, “You are?” 

Your tears have long since stopped, and now you sit up straighter, leaning slightly into the boy even as he fidgets nervously, hands fumbling under the table in lieu of something to do, “Yes. Because a year ago, you wouldn’t have told me at all. You say you haven’t changed but you’ve matured. You know more about yourself now. I’m proud.” 

Hoseok himself can feel tears beginning to pool at the edges of his eyelids, so he turns his head away from you just in case they break away before he can stop them, but he stops himself midway. Because, really, what progress would he have been making if he tried to hide himself away from you just moments after you’d told him you were proud he hadn’t before?

“So I guess this is where we are now. Still loving each other. What messes we are, right?” He laughs cynically to himself, “we seriously don’t know how to break up.”

You laugh back anyway, despite the way his face is downturned and how much you hate to see it that way, your hand coming up to cup his cheek as you ignore the small breath he releases when you do, “We do, we just do it differently than everyone else.”

“Are we going to leave it like this?” Hoseok’s expression is a tad desperate, wet brown eyes watching yours for an answer before your lips would give him one. He leans into your touch when you start to inch your hand away, so you decide to leave it there for the moment.

“I think we should... for now, at least. Like I said, I’m living a different life right now, and you are too. I think you’ve spent too much time focusing on relationships that you haven’t had time to love and repair yourself yet. So let’s do that. Let’s love ourselves and find out who we are and go from there. We don’t have to isolate ourselves from each other but… let’s put this on hold, hm?” You let your hand fall and he doesn’t make a move to follow it this time, his expression soft. He nods with a smile that doesn’t resemble the forced ones he’d been giving, and it makes you smile yourself.

Just then, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket and you pull it out, finding that it’s your boss calling, and you can only guess what that could be about. You look up to Hoseok and he seems to get the hint, scooting out of the booth silently as you do the same with your jacket and bag in hand. You’re about to dig through your purse to throw some money down for the tea when Hoseok stops your hand, a gentle look in his eyes, “Say it’s one on me. An apology for making you cry this early in the morning.” 

You shoot him a grateful smile and whisper a parting to him before answering your phone and raising said phone to your ear as you make your way out of the cafe. Hoseok quietly settles back down into his seat and watches you walk through the window, mouth moving a mile a minute as you discuss God knows what with your boss. Hoseok is about to go back to his parfait when something glints in the morning light.

A gold necklace hangs around your neck, something he hadn’t noticed before when he’d been sitting right across from you. A piece he’d bought you two years ago for your anniversary, something he had expected you to pawn off the minute you moved out of his place.

To you, Hoseok had changed despite his belief he hadn’t. To him, you hadn’t changed much at all, despite your belief you had. 

There would probably still be nights where Hoseok would wish for you and what you used to have, and those nights would probably hurt just as badly as they had before, but something felt different about today. His shoulders felt a little lighter, and the future felt a little less bleak. Today, he could smile and… maybe. Maybe... it wouldn’t hurt all that bad.